guess what?

happy birthday!

Tallahassee had come to hate the rest of Wyoming since they'd left Yellowstone.

A cold-front had rolled in early that afternoon and had chilled the forested landscape in a hazy, brittle fog. The fog wasn't thick as much as persistent. Hovering just in the distance amongst the towering pines, just in the corner of his eye an ephemeral presence that followed him everywhere. "Looks like ghosts," Little Rock had remarked with reverence her pale face tucked against Denver's dark fur.

As much as he hated that sort of thing, Tallahassee found himself hard-put not to agree with her. It was creepy and made him feel like he was driving through some reject horror flick just waiting for the slow-walking serial-killer to appear ominously on the horizon. Instead there was nothing. No animals, no houses, no serial-killers and most of all, no zombies.

So, dreaded anticipation hovered along with the fog. Tallahassee knew that Wyoming's population this far out was in the lower decimals but knowing that didn't stop him from tensing at the sight of every particularly thick patch of fog or at the crest of every hill. By the time night had come, he was feeling so heavy from the day that all he wanted to do was pass out until morning.

It was times like these that he sincerely missed Columbus. Sure, the kid had misconstrued ideas about damn near everything but at least he distracted Tallahassee when he needed it most. Right now was definitely one of those times when he needed it most. And it wasn't because of anticipation, fog, or Wyoming. It was Little Rock.

As soon as the fire had finally picked up, seeming as drained by the grey monotone of their surroundings as Little Rock and Tallahassee were, the two sat down side by side to stare at it. They had just partaken in a meal of canned tuna fish and almost-stale crackers and Tallahassee was starting to feel himself relax.

"Do you know what day it is?" Little Rock had asked. Tallahassee would have jumped from the suddenness of it if he hadn't, at the moment before, turned to look at her. He had been planning on asking her if she was warm enough or some equally inane thing that had died on his tongue at her words.

"Uh, no," he answered and searched her face for some sort of answer to as what exactly was going on her.

Little Rock remained as impassive as ever, meeting his gaze back steadily as she immediately said, "It's Thursday and today is the fifteenth of September."

He stared at her. Honestly, Tallahassee was at a loss. Completely bemused as to why she was telling him this and why she even knew. There were a few ways that he could direct this conversation. He could blow her off, act as dumb as he felt, or—he swallowed, not sure whether the third option was something he should be discussing her.

Something told him if there was ever a time to start being chicken-shit, this was not the time. Tallahassee took a deep breath, let it noisily out through his nose and gave Little Rock a hard look. She blinked, alarmed, and almost seemed to minutely hunch into herself.

"Little Rock," he said quietly. "Why are you keeping track of the days?"

Tallahassee hated himself for it but, far too frequently, he forgot that Little Rock was just a thirteen year old girl. A very well adjusted thirteen year-old girl who was frighteningly perceptive and sharp-witted. He knew to some extent it was a defense against both the world she was doomed to grow old (or not) in and equally a defense against the ten-year-plus her senior crowd she was stuck with. Again, knowing and acknowledging were two very different things.

Her answer was feeble, as her pale gaze flitted away. "I shouldn't, I guess," she answered to the fire. "I know it's stupid and hopeless but…I mean," she swallowed and her gaze dropped to the dirt. "What if someday civilization does right itself? Then who…if we're all okay with forgetting then how will we properly rebuild?"

As Little Rock's explanation had continued on, her voice gradually gained in momentum and volume before she was talking loud enough that Denver twitched in his sleep, ears flicking in their direction. Tallahassee watched her all the while, watched as her gaze roamed away from him and then, gradually, back to meet his own eyes. He wondered what she must think he would say and if he should be offended by it.

Instead of that, though, he asked: "How are you keeping track?"

She blinked again, thrown for a loop, before standing abruptly and walking to the truck. As she rustled around inside the cab, Tallahassee turned to look at Denver who had woken up at the sound of the car door. He worried, briefly, if the dog was suffering from the cold at all before the thought was banished from his mind when Little Rock returned to his side.

"This," she said eagerly, feet tucked under her and a small book sitting on her knees. Tallahassee paid it a passing glance as he moved to grab the blanket crumpled behind her, pulling it around Little Rock's shoulders. The girl paused and looked up with a grateful smile. He proceeded to ignore the warmth that smile brought him as he made an impatient gesture for her to continue.

The spine of the book creaked as she opened it, already obviously cracked from much use. The page she turned to, however, wasn't even near half-way through yet. On the pages were neat rows of careful handwriting spelling out each day and the year. Little Rock smiled at it and turned back two pages, small finger pointing to a date. "That was Wichita's birthday," she said with a grin. "Remember?"

Tallahassee remembered considering they had gotten obscenely plastered and Columbus had thrown up in the back seat of the car they'd had at the time not once but three goddamn times. Wichita had looked happy and Little Rock had been positively glowing so it had almost been worth having to find a new car in the morning with a hangover. Especially since Tallahassee had tried to run down Columbus for six blocks in the new car. Good times.

"Uh," he said with little to no eloquence. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why Little Rock was sharing this with him, let alone what she expected in response. Whatever it was he seemed to be doing it right because the teenager was rolling her eyes fondly and tucking the book away again. "Thanks for showin' me—I, well, I'm actually kinda glad you are keeping track."

This earns him a surprised look—a rare expression on Little Rock. "Oh," she said softly and then proceeded to give him a tight hug. Tallahassee couldn't ignore the gooey-caramel center now considering how uncomfortably warm it had become. "Thank you, Tallahassee."

Little Rock stood then and gave him one last smile, just on the side of embarrassed and delighted. He returned it as best as he could. Once she had tucked herself into her sleeping bag and Denver had joined her side, Tallahassee made sure to throw his spare blanket over her small form. Tomorrow they'd make it to the border and, hopefully, to the missing two of their unlikely quartet. For once, he didn't mind the prospect of the oncoming foggy morning.